A to Z Reflection: How it happened?

The post 'Blogging from A to Z Challenge, Reflection post: How it began' is written as part of the finale. Hope you enjoy as I hark back, tracing the challenge, which is nothing less than Hindi film pot boiler. Do let me know coz I am craving for the feedback!

How it began? A2Z Challenge this April is a definition and extension of my old 'self'. I have always been someone who never planned things in life and when opportunities came along, I dragged my feet. Success and failure has been more or less the same way in life.
Today, if I have been able to complete the challenge, the whole credit goes to dear friends Shalzz and Vidya who kept pushing me, telling how I can do it. It's past history now when I hopped on the very last minute to the challenge. When I decided to put the link, announcing my theme, romance and short stories, I had a panic attack when I headed on A to Z to put my link only to see the collection closed. Bad signal. I clicked on 2014 link.
I frantically checked the linked again and in a jiffy, signed it. It was done and now time to start writing. It was a Sunday and the sleepy head jotted two posts, for Monday and Tuesday. I am not beating the drums. But, the fact is I pre-scheduled my posts and was never late, to the contrary well in advance by 4 to 5 posts. I didn't suffer the blog fatigue at all. It quite surprising considering that last year I suffered when I wrote on the other blog (www.vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com). Pre-scheduling works big time and learned how efficient one can be.
To cut a long story short, I remember chatting with Shalini, telling how I can't and won't be able to do it this time due to crazy work schedule. We discussed and analyzed, found myself giving her some ideas and as the date inched closer, I cursed myself for not starting to write in mid-February, well in advance. Two days before the challenge, it was already decided that there is no way I can take part in the challenge and found myself on Vidya's blog. Her two cents worked magic on me, with her invaluable inputs. I was in. The rest is history.
That's the power of connecting with bloggers, they become our strength and I discovered countless bloggers, telling their stories, this incredible pool of super talented story writers and poets across the blog. A2Z for me is a journey in life where each moment was relished. Finally, it's done. Some of my stories are based on observations I made about life in metro cities like Pune and Mumbai. Of course, I gave my own twist when I weaved them into fiction. It's been a great journey. Nah! I ain't leaving you like that on reflection made. Here, another short story as I doff my hat.

Not Romance, Just a Short Love Story

I don't know why I am sitting in this marriage! Zoya is getting married and despite the fact that I threw away the card when I told her that I am not on the verge of sanity to see the girl I love the most getting hitched to an unknown guy. I am sitting in the marriage in the company of my best friend Adi. She is sitting majestically, along with the groom on the throne.
Adorned in jewelery and decked in a shining gold sari, Zoya looks stunning beautiful, flawless and like an angel. My heart is burning seeing her so perfect. How can she look so beautiful?! She never looked so perfect and divine, all these years we were together and she dressed on her special day for this unknown guy. Asshole! My heart is ripped apart seeing the bride and groom together, walking hand in hand, as they leave the venue towards the car.
I start growing hyper when Adi holds my hand, Dude! Chutiya! Don't make a scene.  I protest, "But, it's her, Zoya, my Zoya." I am almost in tears. Adi hug me, "No! Bro! It's not her. It's a Hindu marriage and Zoya is Muslim."
I try to protest and am speechless. Zoya is gone and so are the guests. It's only the two of us, smoking up and high on ganja and hashish. I am on the verge of passing out. I woke up in a jiffy, jumping out off the bed and almost doing a somersault. It took me a while to realize that it was just a dream. Zoya has been married long time back when she ditched me for her NRI husband, Amreeka returned. She took away my soul and I am sent back into nostalgic mood. I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge to pour myself a glass of juice. I lit a cigarette. After all, it's just a dream. Forget her.
PS: Hope you enjoyed the small gift. See you next year, A2Z-ers

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